Carol was a lady in her late 20's with a brand new baby boy and 2 older boys. She was married to Bob, who for some reason always reminded me of Fred Flintstone. I guess that's because I was four years old. Carol was the total opposite of my mom. She had dark brown hair, freckles, glasses and she loved me. When we were at Bob & Carol's house it was like living in a real family. The boys were like my brothers and I was Carol's only girl. They had the most beautiful and perfect dog, a big Irish Setter with just the right temperament. We played hide & seek, we played Star Wars, Carol cooked nice meals like chili and spaghetti and macaroni and cheese. When I got a boo-boo, Carol would kiss it better. When I was upset, Carol would comfort me. At night, when everyone went to bed, sometimes I would come out and tell Carol that I couldn't sleep. She would pat the couch beside her and I'd lay down next to her. We'd watch The Love Boat and she would stroke my hair and tickle my back until I fell asleep. I would fall asleep feeling loved and secure. And, of course, I would be awakened at 3AM every morning to get in my mom's car after the bars closed and go back to my reality.
As with everyone else in my life, Carol only remained a short time. I'm not sure why we stopped going there but they were the best times of my young life, other than being with my grandma. I always wished Carol could be my real mom. Sometimes, I still do.
Six memorable summer moments I didn't blog about
11 months ago